


Keeping the Books

by TakingFlight48



Series: Moments of Written Musings [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 31 days of writing, Angry Sex, Angry Tom, Angry packing, Argument Day 3 [October 2], Basically PWP, Can't hurt to try, Demanding Tom, Demanding equal treatment, Established Relationship, F/M, Furious Hermione, I mean really just PWP with an argument, Just an excuse for them to have quick hard sex, Kicking him out, Possessive Tom Riddle, Public argument, Teasing Hermione, can everything be fixed with a good romp?, make-up sex, perhaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26788096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakingFlight48/pseuds/TakingFlight48
Summary: When the most powerful wizard in present history cannot manage to pack up his own belongings, Hermione takes matters into her own hands.  What she had intended as a cut and dry confrontation, however, ended as an explosion in more than one context.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Series: Moments of Written Musings [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946668
Comments: 9
Kudos: 87
Collections: 31 Days of Writing Challenge - Fall 2020, RAREHPBINGO





	Keeping the Books

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Day 2 - October 2nd Prompt for 31 days of Writing!! 
> 
> Today's prompt was: An Argument
> 
> If you did not read the tags, this is explicit, PWP, and unashamedly naughty. 
> 
> Also for Rare HP Bingo - Square N3 
> 
> Enjoy ☮ ✌

“Aaarghhh,” she screamed as she stormed around her home. She swished, flicked, stabbed, and twirled her wand barely feeling the satisfaction of his things following shortly behind her magical commands as she muttered obscenities under her breath. 

“Most powerful man in Britain,” she grit her teeth as his shirts refolded the way she demanded he should and shoved themselves into the box, shrinking before her very eyes. 

Her sharp heels clicked against the hardwood floors of their space, no it was her space now, wasn’t it? She felt powerful, in her deep red dress and deep black satin stiletto heels. 

“Can’t even pack up a flat, take his shite, and leave me the bloody hell alone.” 

“Well, no more! Hermione Granger does not wait for any man, even him! To move on, to move him out, and get my space back,” she yelped when her toes slammed into the corner table he had insisted on from the Yang Dynasty. “Are you kidding me?” She stomped her pounding foot until the pain eased and looked up at the books lining the library they had expanded together. 

“Oh, ho ho, I am keeping the books,” she muttered, “KEEPING THE BOOKS,” she screamed as if the walls needed confirmation as Hermione proceeded to the entrance. 

With a final jab of her wand like a conductor concluding the London Orchestra’s New Years' Eve concert, she caught her short robe in her hand throwing her arms through the sleeves as she plucked the small box full of all his belongings out of the air. 

“Let’s remind him who we are,” she muttered, remembering to reset the wards moments before the door slammed joining the background of her angry march. 

Had she cared, for even a moment about remaining obscure tonight she would have been concerned that her crack of apparition sounded more like the thunder god was biting at her heels than her calm, near-silent pop the wizarding world had grown accustomed to. 

But she did not care; not today. Not after traveling from Southern Spain to London with only a broken piece comb as her companion. 

She took a moment to breathe in the Wiltshire air and let the first smile of the evening slip through. Her smile slowly shifted into a wicked little laugh as she considered the myriad of reactions she could pull from him tonight. She knew where she was, knew what he was doing tonight, and thanks to her trip back in time a few years back, knew the very mechanics of this man, this ‘monster’ everyone feared. Everyone. But. Her. 

And then she remembered, remember her purpose here tonight. Remembered the anger that shot through her spine, pierced out through her blood-stream jumping from nerve ending to nerve ending until she felt the ground shaking under her very steep heeled feet. 

She didn’t notice how the grass previously under her feet transfigured itself into a smooth stone path, the shift, slide, tap of her pace echoing in the silence of the night until she reached the front doors. Her hands pushed apart in front of her, having just enough control of herself to push the doors open without slamming them against the inner walls. 

She wanted to be noticed but not quite yet. She blew a salacious kiss to the night guard standing at the exit of the entry hall as she tossed him her outer robe. “Not a word, Avery,” she ordered as she dragged her hands down her torso, removing any wrinkles she may have caused during travel, as she walked purposefully to the Malfoy’s larger drawing-room. 

She raised a single brow to the brooding Viking that stood outside the doors tonight when he refused to open the door, “What did you do to get guard duty, Thor?” She questioned as she got closer. 

“No, I just don’t care right now,” she corrected sending him a wink as he simply moved out of her way and this time she slammed the doors open as she passed through. 

She quickly reattached her wand to her wrist holster, let her previously pinned hair down, and reveled as it bounced every which way as she stalked closer to her ex-lover. 

When the loud clacking of her heels overpowered the low baritone speaking at the head of the room she took her moment to speak. 

“You had one job, one task to complete before my return today,” she said calmly, ensuring the edge in her voice was sharp enough to cut through his excuses. 

“Welcome My Lady,” Tom muttered, his voice full of amusement while his face reflected the boredom these meetings so frequently inspired in him. 

“Don’t you 'My Lady' me, Tom Marvolo Riddle,” and she luxuriated in the way he sat up slowly, eyes flashing red at the use of his given name. She knew she was walking on thin ice, but she was fucking sick of it. 

“I demanded one thing when I returned,” and she stopped for a moment at the foot of the raised dais turning slightly when she caught Draco’s spastic movements. 

“Granger,” he whisper-shouted, “Granger, you don’t know what your-” he was making a seizing motion with his head towards Tom behind her and she knew he was probably livid if Draco was willing to stick his head on the line to warn her. 

“Just let us adults handle this, babe,” she murmured, sending him a grateful smile for his loyalty before dragging her attention back to the moment at hand. With a raised brow and the deep flush of anger on her cheeks she took each step of the dias slowly knowing how great her arse looked in the dress she wore tonight. She reveled in his long perusal of her form and did not miss the anger behind his eyes, at her actions or her dress choice she was unsure.

“Just one thing that the most powerful man in Britain should have been able to deliver without pause. With his eyes closed and wand on the other side of England if I had to guess. Merlin, you could even have had one of your minions complete the task,” she threw her hands out, sparks flying out of her fingertips and she heard various ‘guests’ buckle over in pain but she paid it no mind. 

“Thor is out there punished for Godric knows what and he could have easily shown up at MY Manor, packed up your belongings, and erased yourself from my space. Thor,” she shouted, turning around and making sure she leaned forward, legs slightly spread and smiled wickedly at the sharp inhale she heard behind her. 

“Thor, darling. What was that you said to me a few months back? That you were willing and able whenever I had a - a need?” She saw his face turn whiter than his blonde hair as she shot him a coy smile, laughing lightly at his shocked expression. 

“So you see Tom, should I have a _need,_ ” she turned back to her slowly angering partner. “And since you struggled with the simple instructions I thought I would do it for you since you clearly found this to be above your magical abilities.” She pouted slightly, tone condescending and dripping with sarcasm as his fists tightened at his sides.

She saunted to stand before him, ensuring no one else could see her wanton behavior but The Dark Lord and plucked the small box out of her brassiere before enlarging it and taking a few steps back once again. 

“Your clothing,” and she tossed the topmost shrunken box out, “You’ll be happy to know Maeve can fold them however her little elfen heart desires now.” Her anger spiked when she saw him easily deflect the box, his magic slowing and dropping it to his side as he watched her display with a raised brow. 

Growling deep from her chest cavity she snapped, “Your toiletries,” she tossed it at his smug face with as much anger and strength as she could muster, “your shoes, your robes, your excess furniture, and your blasted condiments!” She tossed the last triumphantly before letting her mouth fall into a victorious grin, teeth bared like the wild wolf her Patronus mirrored, “but I,” she sauntered towards him, “am keeping the books.” 

She turned sharply, “Thor, your welcome to move in I am sure we can-”

“Leave us,” he cut her off, finally standing and she felt every hair on her body stand on end as his oozing aura spread the width of the room and finally clashing with her own. She watched impatiently as the room remained frozen, not one Death Eater daring to breathe and as she was about to snap at them herself, Tom beat her to it. 

“Now!” and if she hadn’t been playing a part, if she hadn’t been expected to stand there allowing her anger to spark through her hair from end to end and her chest to maintain it’s flushed appearance, she would have laughed. 

Instead, she watched as Britain's premier wizards and witches ran as uncivilly as possible from the tension in the room. 

He stalked behind her as the final black robe swished through the door before Thor stood there, shuffling from foot to foot at the double doors. 

“Is there something you need, Rowle?” he growled low, the implication clear in his tone and she prayed that Thor was a smarter man than he seemed. 

“Of course, not my Lord,” he rushed out, head bowing lightly before sending her a very obvious wink as the doors closed in his face by Tom’s magic. 

She yelped as he grabbed her hips and pulled her flush against his chest. “Are you happy, are you truly satisfied with the performance you displayed just now, Hermione Jean?” he muttered, nose following the curve of her ear as his hot breath sent her heart pounding. 

“Move out. Take your stuff and go Tom Riddle. I will not repeat myself again,” she murmured standing tall, spine straight and hands limp at her sides, unwilling to give him any other indication that she was enjoying this as much as she was. 

“I know what you said,” he whispered darkly, “I heard your demands and your logical breakdown that led to your decision,” and she knew how much he hated to be cut off so she did it. 

“Then you know that the only way to fix this, to leave this room without any further regrets is to let me go,” she sneered in equal anger. 

“You seem to be under a misconception of who you are dealing with here. I am the Dark Lord,” he turned her in his arms, hand coming up to grip her hair hard and force her to maintain eye contact, neck-straining up. 

“The Dark Lord who does nothing by half. I will not be leaving. I will not be collecting my things and going, and I will never,” and with a swish behind her the doors slammed open once again and she smirked before clearing her face and turning to see the nosey sods still listening at the door. 

“I dismissed you all did I not?” his voice slithering through the room, a few Death Eaters visibly shivering. “Did you forget what that word entails? Had I wanted an audience with this witch I would have carried out this argument before you all. Get. Out.”

She slammed the doors as she snapped the last word and slowly lifted her hands, sending out her magic, their magic, to ward the room from anything other than themselves, including sound. 

“You have to be the most marvelous being when angry, even when you wear a dress I never want to see on you in public again” he stated as if he was speaking of the weather. She felt his magic slowly follow the tip of his finger down her dress as it slit down the middle and fluttered to the ground behind her. 

His eyes widened, brows rising towards his hairline as he took in her nude form. “I knew what I was getting into coming here tonight Tom. I also know your penchant for slicing spells and figured I would save us both the time. Now ravish me you monster.” 

“The boxes were a nice touch, but I wonder how worked up you had to get to be able to emote so perfectly for our minions?” he demanded as he pulled her neck to the side, exposing herself to his greedy lips as he began a slow, torturous decline from her ear lobe to her pulse point. 

“The moment I stepped into our home, I had to begin. I almost missed you,” she breathed out as she gripped his shoulders tightly. 

“Now, now witch, you know I cannot comprehend such ridiculous thoughts, but your absence was - felt.”

“Mmmm, yes and was it felt,” she shifted her hand under his deep green robes and over his shirt, trailing it down slowly until she reached his member already at half-mast, “here?” she whimpered as he bit down hard on her pulse point. 

She squeezed his cock over his trousers, sliding her hand up and down as he laved her throat with his tongue and her other hand moved up to tangle in his deep black locks. 

“Fuck,” she whimpered as he made his way across her exposed neck. 

“I find myself in an unexpected situation, _wife_. You are mine, through vows, confirmed through time, and deemed so by magic itself as I am yours. For that reason, I have a very strong desire to reward you for your performance this evening. You know how much I love to see you flushed in anger, hair sparking, power radiating around you without a care of who it touches, but there can never be anyone else for you. Nor myself. Thor has wanted you for a long time and to taunt me with him, well that just seems like you're begging for punishment.”

She whimpered as his words touched her core and felt how wet her body was getting with scarcely a touch. It seemed as her anger spiked so did her arousal around this man. 

And before she could respond he bit down hard on her nipple giving her only a moment’s respite with his soft tongue before nipping it hard. He slowly made his way across her chest with tight nips and deep sucks, marking her with his possession. 

“Don’t you dare mark me, Tom,” she muttered through her moans, knowing he would ignore her but she wasn’t so far gone she couldn’t hold her own still. 

“Am I not already marked onto your very soul Mrs. Riddle?” she huffed, gripping his hair tighter as he clamped her left nipple between his teeth and rubbed it hard between the roof of his mouth and his tongue. 

“You do not deserve to mark me after your display before I left,” she retorted, “nor do I deserve punishment because of your appalling behavior prior to my trip.” 

“You were offering yourself to another man! I will not stand for it, even in jest!” He shouted before slowly lowering himself and she yelped as he tugged her down with him. 

“I bet you he wouldn’t demand I stay by his side even when it benefits him for me to meet with foreign diplomats,” and she groaned out the ending of her thoughts, unsure when he had magicked away his own clothing and impaling her onto him. 

“Fuck, Tom you cannot solve everything with sex!” She shouted, hands grabbing her hair tight as he began to thrust up into her. She was panting as she engaged her thighs to bounce atop his cock with him, shifting her hips up on every downstroke to drag his cock along her inner walls. 

“No, but you need a reminder who you belong to. Not Thor,” he grunted as he sat up and sucked her breast into her mouth. “Not Draco,” and Hermione dropped her head ready to retort at his accusation, “don’t think I didn’t hear the softness in your response to his stupid attempt at saving you from me,” he barked taking her other nipple into her mouth hard, viciously biting her and earning moans that did not belong in this argument. 

“You need a reminder that I belong to no one! No one. I have chosen, CHOSEN, to be with you, not to exist for you, but with you! And if you cannot accept that, which you claimed you could not, auhghhhhh,” she moaned as he brought his hand down to her clit, drawing tight circles against it as she finally fell forward, hands on either side of his head as he smirked up at her. 

“Fuck you, Tom Riddle,” she growled. “You will take your shit, find yourself another bitch willing to put up with your childish demands, and this will be the last time you get to enjoy this pussy,” she panted as she crashed her mouth down onto his. 

He met her tongue eagerly, picking up the pace of his thrusts, hand caught between their two bodies providing but a small teasing pressure to her clit as she rocked her hips back and forth quickly. She devoured his mouth, urging them to say the words she needed to hear to make this better. Her tongue begged his own to admit his wrong, her lips prayed softly against his that he would understand the value of her independence, her teeth clattering against his own demanding to be recognized as an equal in this relationship. 

“You knew who I was,” he panted ripping himself away from her, flipping them over and her breath leaving her as she landed hard on her back. 

“Oooof,” she huffed out as he pushed her knee up towards his hip and the other hand placed itself by her ear as he began to pound into her. 

“Yes and you knew who I was, damn, you know, yes right there, what I want, what I need, mmmmmm,” she moaned as he let her knee go and pushed her hips up, changing the angle of his thrusts. 

She slapped her hand hard against his shoulder as he hit her g-spot and her back arched as she began to writhe under him. 

“I am not your possession Tom Riddle,” she forced out, angered that she had to do this while his cock was eliciting such delight inside her. 

“Salazar, witch, I am sorry,” he groaned, dropping his head to her neck, breathing heavily as she wrapped her legs around his waist and began to meet him thrust for thrust. 

“Now kindly silence yourself before I change my mind and deny you your orgasm,” and that was enough. She was certain, if the smirk she felt against her jaw was any indication, that he knew what those words would do to her as he snapped his hips against hers. She was trying to keep up with his punishing thrusts as his pelvis slid hard against her clit but then she was screaming out his name into the echoing drawing-room, his name bouncing off the walls as her whole body shook around him. 

She scarcely held on, nails biting into the skin of his shoulders as her legs dropped down, laden by the twitching of her orgasm. He thrust in once, twice, and then on the final thrust, his whole upper body shuddered, his neck arching up, and with a grunt his heated breath left imprinted on her neck he came. Her own back arched, aftershocks of her orgasm mixing with his and eliciting a smaller second as his thick member twitched insider her sex. 

He dropped down heavily on top of her forcing her to gasp for breath before he rolled off slowly. 

“Next time you forget yourself and demand my compliance, I will find a way to brand myself with your childish dark mark, voiding our marriage vows, and fucking Thor until my pussy is raw and my skin forgets how perfect it feels against yours,” she panted her promise beside him. 

“Fuck that is enough witch. You are coming home with me and I am tying you up until you beg forgiveness for even considering that.” He growled, attempting to get up from their prone, post-climax position. 

“I am serious,” she turned her head to see his dark blue eyes watching her carefully, “I pledged to love you, not follow you. I was explicit. Do not take advantage of that love or I am gone. Also, I would be keeping the books.” 

He nodded once, kissing her forehead before she closed her eyes and let out the last remnants of her anger, at least for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Well!! Thanks for joining my first foray into Tom/Hermione 0:)
> 
> This was written for the 31 Days of Writing challenge on Discord as well as the Rare Pair HP Bingo Card - center square Tom/Hermione [N3]. 
> 
> Thanks again to the [J](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarlGreyPanic) [A](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takingflight48) [M](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwi05622/works) Team [my favorite ladies] for their unwavering support as I typed this up in two hours to prepare for human consumption. 
> 
> As usual, comments are our lifeblood and highly appreciated. Should you disagree with the words displayed above, ConCrit is appreciated/preferred as well. ॐ


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